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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29547816">With milk</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniP/pseuds/DaniP'>DaniP</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hades and Persefone short stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coffee, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Hades (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore), Fluff, Goddesses, Gods, Hades Needs a Hug, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore), Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), Male Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore), Pagan Gods, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore), References to Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, author tends to curse, cerberus is cute bite me, coffee is the ultimate god, construction references because author misses school and is a proud architecture student, i think i might be proyecting in hades, more like hades is a mess and persephone is a good caring boyfriend, no beta we die like men, sleep deprived Hades</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:54:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29547816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniP/pseuds/DaniP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hades is stressed out and Persephone is there to save the day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hades and Persefone short stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170830</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>With milk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! thank you for giving this a shoot. I'm not native English speaker, so if you find any mistakes please let me know. And if by any chance you like this please also let me know.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely loves the new job, and all the collateral changes that came with it. She feels so incredibly powerful right now, like she is really making the difference, like all her hard work and sweat has a meaning, like she is validated and needed. Like she is creating something beautiful and pure.<br/>
And every rational person would take that over meaningless, boring stability, contaminating, degrading, humiliating safety. She wasn’t expecting exactly that when she applied for the job, but would take it all over again if she could.</p><p>And all things considered, those little extras that her contract never mentioned really pushed her life in the right direction.</p><p>The new house for example has all the pros and almost no cons, thrust her, she did the designs. So, three moths living at the office and lots of field work later, she has the most amazing living room ever. Floor to ceiling glass windows, a huge balcony and an unobstructed ocean view. She could dive right from that balcony. </p><p>The dog came with the house. It was from the first guy that took the job, and it just sort of stayed. But its sweet, and fluffy, and curls at her feet when she reads. It’s a little grumpy, but wouldn’t you? If you were tied to a short rope all day for years? With no outlet for your stress and overflowing energy, with no break for comfort and love?<br/>
Previous guy was irresponsible in many ways, but that was definitely the one that struck her deepest.  You can fuck around with humanity, make a few mistakes, nobody is perfect; but don’t ever, ever, harm innocent creatures, don’t destroy infinite loyalty and acceptance.  </p><p>That’s unforgivable and inexcusable. </p><p>Fear is not a valid reason for cruelty. </p><p>The neighbors are a little noisy. But neighbors are condemned to be disrespectful and intrusive, that’s just the universal law of life in community. She just wishes they could suffer their eternal punishment in silence.   </p><p>Oh. And the new boyfriend.<br/>
Imagine a living, breathing, sweating, Greek GOD. Yeah, he’s a dream, plus she can talk with the guy more than five minutes and not want to strangle him. They actually have a few things in common now that she thinks of it. They both like flowers attached to their respective plants and not in a glass vase, that’s why they have pots in the dining table (don’t do that, it’s a hazel to water them). They both like books over TV shows, it’s so nice, not seeing (and hearing) that big black bitch turned on the whole day (no, that satanic invention is locked and the controls hidden for safety measure). And they both hate that evil creation of American coffee, seriously why would a sane person put so much water in the coffee, no, they have it Italian (like its meant to be) … with milk. </p><p>She met him at work. He was not exactly her boss, but was there first and took her through the basics. They have a pretty nice arrangement, he works six months with her, and then goes to his family business for the other six months. The in-laws are still a work in progress (that woman has serious trust issues). So she gets half year of relationship time and half year of self-time, neat and easy.</p><p> </p><p>She does not regret starting those new projects. They were needed, and the results she is getting speak for themselves. The numbers don’t lie, not to her (nobody will dare mess with her numbers). The work load it’s a major, wicked, insatiable bitch. But things are getting better, its slow (painfully so), but it is, and that it’s all that matters in the end. That wonderful, magical existence of improvement; that healing breath of salvation; that ethereal, minuscule, and so alarmingly fragile opportunity to make things wright. She did that. And she is proud. Immensely proud, and even more unsatisfied. There is so much more that has to be done. Changes that need to be urgently made. Ideas that are to be promptly implemented.<br/>
But none of that can be rushed. Everything demands meticulous planning, careful analysis, constant observation. She has to be careful now so she can reap (get the pun?) better profits when the time comes. A well done analysis is key for a successful endeavor, just like a strong foundation holds an enduring building.<br/>
But there are days like this. She is beyond exhausted. Her feet ache with the force of enraged titans. The bra keeps getting tighter and tighter, strangling her breasts like a starved python. Curse the evil soul that sexified bras. The glasses might as well be knives eagerly stabbing the bridge of her nose.  She has been reading the same paragraph for hours and it’s still refusing to make proper sense. There are mails coming and coming like she could read them all, like she would read them at all. The nerve of those impertinent notifications (know your place you lowly, insolent sound!) And that disgusting, nauseating, loathsome smell that leaks from her assistant (she is one more cigarette from being satisfyingly fired) is giving her stomach an Olympic challenge.   </p><p>She just needs a break. And a hug. And coffee. </p><p>And that is what she is getting. </p><p>She stands up, takes her glasses off, grabs her phone and throws those god dammed heals. Bliss. The noise they made when they struck the door was pure bliss. And the startled stupid face her assistant made was worth a pair broken shoe.</p><p>She has perfectly functional feel. She can walk with them. And barefoot she goes to the lounge; to make the most holly, sacred, god blessed, perfect drink, humanity has had the geniality of bringing to the forsaken land of office buildings. </p><p>Hot, black, bitter, Italian coffee… with milk.</p><p>And while the coffee maker is casting its magic, she video-calls her boyfriend. Because she might not be able to get that hug right now (there are still five months, a week, and four days for that), but she can complain, and pout, be cute and demand to be baby talked and consoled for her herculean efforts. That would do (barely)… for now. But internet connection is a bitch in that hell hole she is at. So the rings go on, and on, and on, and on… until he answers the third time she calls. </p><p>The image is a bit grainy and slow and the sound is a few seconds off. But there he is, in all his evergreen, morning dew, holly glory. He is perfect, wet and blooming like a river stream, like spring in a bottle, honey, mist, and sunshine. He laughs at her antics, but coos and baby talks and comforts her. The grace of familiarity. He gets lost explaining the highs of yesterday’s work, but that’s ok, she sips her coffee and listens (and smiles, silly).</p><p>It seriously empowering, being able to let down the walls, and the armor. Revealing yourself, naked, full of thorny angles, and vulnerable; childish, infatuated and broken, to someone that’s not going to tray fix you, someone that will accompany you while you slay the demons, that’s gonna hug you and send you off to the battle fields, to conquer de world. Someone that believes that all your broken stones are powerful, lethal weapons. Someone that worships the wild grass and the little flowers that bloom from your blood. Someone that dances with your cruelest and darkest shadows. Someone that’s passionate and intransigent about the things he loves, and lets that passion touch you, ignite you. Someone that respects your weaknesses and encourages your dreams. </p><p>Someone that holds your flags.</p><p>And to be for him all those things he need and loves. To grow and flourish together, to wilt and perish. And wake anew. </p><p>When she returns to work, still tired and in pain, there is fresh energy in her steps, and a vicious, determined look in her eyes; she is gonna win this battle, gonna rock the sky and fix the world. And she is going to prove something important,</p><p> to herself. </p><p>She fucking reigns over an ever-growing army of dead, she is queen of the Hades, the raging, indomitable force of the earth, the ruthless mistress of darkness.</p><p>the wicked grin of fear and reverence in the trembling soul of humanity.</p><p>Inexorable and Inflexible.</p><p>She is a merciless goddess.<br/>
A black, hot, bitter goddess.</p>
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